


I've Never Been So Alone

by cydonic



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, F/F, Religion, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cydonic/pseuds/cydonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel gets lost on a jog one day, and winds up asking for directions from a girl who doesn't even know what Lima is. Faberry AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Never Been So Alone

**Author's Note:**

> this fic deals with a religious cult - note that i am not targeting any particular individual and/or religion. i may refer to the religion they follow as christian, but i am taking their worship to extremes as a plot device. please please please know that i'm not trying to say any religion is bad or terrible or anything. i love and respect you all, no matter what you choose to believe okay!

Lima had been Rachel’s home for seventeen years now. She had grown up in a home with so much love and music and – what is apparently a rarity these days – freedom. Rachel had been allowed to play in the streets whenever she wanted to (read: whenever she had someone who wanted her company), and walking to her friend’s house down the street had never been an issue, even at the tender age of five.

 _“There’s too much media hype_ ,” her father had said, _“about letting your children just go out and_ be _children._ ”

They had, at every point, attempted to give Rachel free rein. It was not that they didn’t care about her safety (the amount of texts she got whenever she went to a friend’s house, _just checking to see you got there okay_ , was testament to that), but that they wanted to foster in her a sense of responsibility and common sense. Don’t get into cars with strangers, walk with a friend or in a group of people when you can, always be aware of your surroundings…

The last point – being aware of your surroundings – was something Rachel was incredibly poor at. She never ended up running into oncoming traffic on her daily jogs (though was prone to occasionally bump shoulders with an unknowing pedestrian), but she did have a habit of putting both earphones in and getting lost in the world of music.

That was how she had set out that afternoon, jogging out of her front yard as the opening notes of _No One Mourns the Wicked_ began to play.

Rachel easily grew tired and bored of the same old routine, day and again (which is why today she had mixed up her jogging playlist with the inclusion of the _Wicked_ soundtrack), so trying to run every combination of streets in Lima she could was a frequent challenge.

Sometimes Rachel pushed it too far, or simply got too caught up in music and her own thoughts, and ended up on one of the few roads leading out of the city. It didn’t happen often, nor did she get too far before realising and turning around (trying to make it subtle so no passing motorists might assume she had just gotten lost in her own head), but it wasn’t a rarity.

Today left Rachel with a lot on her mind. Graduation was rapidly approaching, as were Nationals, and she had to seriously start preparing for her NYADA audition. There was so much to do, and so little time, and so Rachel took refuge in her iPod for the hour she was going to be jogging around town.

It was only coming up on _No Good Deed_ that Rachel realised she had already been out an hour, feet pounding the pavement and trying to drive all her worries away. She would have to turn back soon for home in order to avoid worrying her parents, who would no doubt start frantically calling her when she didn’t appear home around her usual time.

She slowed down from her jog into a walk, raising her arms up over her head to loosen them out as she gauged what the best route home might be.

And then she stopped completely, turning on the spot.

She was on the side of the road in what looked like the middle of nowhere. On the left side of the road was a copse of trees, on the right nothing but empty, unused fields. No livestock, no houses, no nothing.

Fishing her phone out of her pocket, Rachel had every intention of texting home to keep her family up-to-date, but the reception bar was woefully empty. Sometimes it would flicker back to life as she took a step, or waved her phone above her head, but it would die out as quickly as it had come. Nothing. How could reception cease to exist no more than half an hour out of the city?

Rachel sighed and looked around again. The only remotely promising thing Rachel could see was just off behind her, a winding, dirt driveway. It had to be leading to a home of some kind, as tall fences enclosed the borders of the block. They’d be able to let her know where she was – _seventeen years and_ lost _, what are the chances?_ – and hopefully send her on her way back home.

Pocketing her phone, Rachel picked up a fast walk and headed up to the gate. She reached a hand through the tall metal bars, seeking out a latch to pull up or even some kind of bell to ring to let someone know she was there, but her fingers found nothing.

Huh.

How irritating.

Rachel’s legs ached beneath her – a sign she had been running much longer than she was used to – and she placed her hands on her hips as she eyed up the winding driveway. Or, to be more truthful, what she could see of the driveway before it took a sharp bend and disappeared from her sight.

She would have assumed the place deserted – perhaps a holiday home, or a block owned by the government – when someone started walking along the side of the driveway. Rachel felt a smile tiredly rise to her lips once more as she took in the person approaching the gate. She appeared to be around Rachel’s age, though wearing the most unfashionable dress ever (and coming from Rachel, who was not known at McKinley for her style, said something). It was a dark, heavy blue, dragging the thin figure down to the ground with the full skirt. The hem brushed the ground, whilst a high neckline wrapped tight around a pale throat, and the sleeves hung down to the start of her thumb. Was this some kind of Amish community or something? Looking through that gate was like gazing upon a girl from the past. Her blonde hair was done in an elaborate headband braid, and a basket full of wildflowers hung over her wrists.

Rachel actually forgot why she was there for a moment, distracted by the girl who might as well be her mirror image from decades ago.

And then she lifted her eyes from the ground, readjusted the basket, and looked directly at Rachel.

They both froze there for a second – the blonde girl in her bygone-era attire, and Rachel in a pair of short-shorts and a tank top, sweat plastering everything flat against her tan skin.

“Hi.” Rachel said, taking in the uncertain stance the girl adopted. In an attempt to convey that she meant no harm, Rachel raised one hand and waved it. “Sorry to surprise you – I got lost, and I was just wondering if you could give me directions back into town.” She explained, now gesturing with that same hand in a way that should represent her current state of being (lost) but looked more like a twirly, grabby movement.

It took a minute for the blonde girl to even consider stepping closer to Rachel, looking cautiously over her shoulder all the while. Where before the basket had rested atop her wrists, she now wrung the woven strap with her delicate hands. “I’m sorry.” She said in a quiet voice when she stopped, several paces from the gate. “Where did you need to go?”

“Just back into Lima.” Rachel explained, rolling her tense shoulders back and trying to relax. This was good – she was going to get some directions, and then she’d be on her way. No need to be tense, despite how this gate seemed to lead into some past dimension of some kind. The girl, for all her strange fashion sense and quiet manner, did not mean any harm.

She tilted her head to the side, and stepped closer. “What is Lima?” She asked, as if Rachel had tried to wrangle an explanation on particle physics out of her, not just directions back to the nearest major city.

“Lima – it’s… the city, it… just nearby, you know?” Rachel said, not sure how _exactly_ to explain what Lima was because _who could live near Lima and not know_? When the blonde shook her head gently, Rachel cast her eyes up to the sky, wracking her brain for anything to help her. “When you get food and stuff, where do you go to buy it?” Even if she was given directions to an organic farm or a nearby minimarket, she’d be okay. They would have reception, and she could get her Dad’s to come get her and promise the whole way home that she’d pay more attention next time.

The girl continued to give her this blank look, though in her pale green eyes it was an oddly enchanting sight. “We grow all of our own food.” As if to bear testament to that, two chickens appeared from within some bushes bracketing the driveway, scratching the ground with their feet. “And we do not leave the farm.” She added, shrugging her shoulders as if _Rachel_ was the weird one here.

“You don’t – you stay in there all the time?” Rachel asked, momentarily distracted by the absolute… _insanity_ of that. The girl nodded. “How do you go to school? And make friends? And... just… _do_ things?”

“Mother teaches us to sew and cook and write.” She replied, a hint of wariness returning to her tone. No wonder – if she just lived within these walls, Rachel must look like the craziest person ever, hands down. “I do all my chores that I have to, and I am friends with some of the younger children. Will someone not be worried that you are lost?” It was the first time since speaking to her that the blonde had asked something of Rachel – so far it had been a very one-sided interrogation.

“Yeah, my Dads are gonna be worried about me. That’s why I have to get back to Lima. Does anyone in there know how to get back?” Even as they spoke, Rachel could feel dusk start to settle in over their shoulders – the sun was just barely holding onto the sky, fingers of light stretched long past their heads. As soon as it gave up that fight, though, the evening would well and truly be there, and then Rachel would start to worry too.

The girl looked at the ground. “I am not to speak with people not from the farm.” She said, looking almost apologetic. Again, she looked back down the driveway, the chickens starting to make their way back up the dirt road. She stepped conspiratorially closer to the gate, pressing her face nearly against the bars. “Whenever Father leaves the farm, they turn that way.” She pointed to the right. “I wish I could help you more.”

And whilst it wasn’t much, Rachel took what she could get. “No – thank you. You’ve been wonderful.” No use freaking the girl out any more than she already had.

As Rachel was ready to say her farewells and leave, a thin hand reached through the bars to grab hers. No – not grab, but give her something; a long stem, dirt hanging on the tiny root, with a string of bluebells dangling from the end. “I would like to come outside and see what it is like.” She said, and for the first time something other than worry or apology sparked in her green eyes: excitement, with a tiny smile to accompany it.

Rachel squeezed her hand through the bar, only partially surprised when the girl snatched it back and looked around her shoulders. “One day I can take you.” The words were stolen from her mouth before her mind caught up to it, but the offer meant nothing less. Maybe one day she could. No one could spend their lives stuck behind a fence. “My name is Rachel.”

The blonde smiled. “Quinn. I am always here on a Thursday afternoon, if I complete all my chores by afternoon tea. Perhaps I will see you again, and you can tell me more about Lima.” The city name sounded heavy and foreign on her tongue, but nothing could dampen the obvious intrigue in her tone.

Rachel laughed before she thought. “If I find my way back home tonight, perhaps you will.”

From further within the compound, a bell started to toll – once, twice, and three times, before falling silent. Quinn stepped back as if magnetised towards the sound. “Thank you, Rachel.” She said, turning on her heel and walking halfway up the drive before turning back. “And best of luck.”

Rachel stood by the gate long after Quinn had left, holding tight to the bluebell in her hand and the strange girl who had never seen the other side of the fence before.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i cannot thank my wonderful beta freakishsweetheart enough! she encouraged me to keep going on this, and has been so so supportive :)


End file.
